


Only A Fool

by LilyAngorian



Series: A Gangster Always Needs A Nurse [7]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Angst, But first she has duties to attend to, F/M, Shock following the events of the early morning, Stella has to make a decision
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11323425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAngorian/pseuds/LilyAngorian
Summary: It's been months since I last added to this series, but I had a real block, and it just needed more work than I had the time to give it. This will be the penultimate chapter, so expect the next addition to resolve this one way or another.





	Only A Fool

**Author's Note:**

> It's been months since I last added to this series, but I had a real block, and it just needed more work than I had the time to give it. This will be the penultimate chapter, so expect the next addition to resolve this one way or another.

Stella felt his hand catch her face, the sting and the burn. And then Ada and Arthur were shouting, and she was wiping away the tears running down her neck, though she hadn’t felt them being shed. And Tommy was just standing there. His face was impassive, but body visibly tensed beneath his clothes as though he might throw himself at someone. Stella didn’t know whether it would be her or his brother, but she wasn’t going to wait and find out. Was it the liquor, was it the events of the previous night, was it her? She thought she heard him call after her as she rushed out into the street, but that could have been wishful thinking. 

Stella couldn’t remember most of the journey back to the hospital, only a collection of prominent fragments. Passing clusters of men on their way to work, loud and close and unnerving. They flicked their eyes over her delicate dress and flushed face, one cheek hotter than the other. She didn’t notice the rain until she had to cross the street and saw her reflection in a window, nipples and hip-bones plastered with the silky fabric. Her hair clung to her, soaked and curling around her neck. The trainee nurses whispered behind trays of equipment, turning their heads to scour her with their laughter as she passed them in the corridors. Matron caught her at the door to her room, not two steps away. An updated list of tasks for that day, including a scheduled meeting with her when it was all done. Stella could smell the resentment sweating off of the older woman, and she did not dare meet her gaze. Sinking down onto her bed, she caught herself bunching the sheets in her hands, and scratching the fabric with her nails. Her hair was dripping onto the pillows, what was left of her makeup smeared and heavy around her eyes. 

She scrubbed and washed and re-dressed as quickly as she could, aggressively salvaging her own skin. As the shock slipped into normality, the room seemed closer around her, her uniform tight and feet painful. She took a minute to breathe, back pressed against the door, fingers twitching with her skirts as she shut out the earlier events, prepared to face them at the end of the day. For now, she had more pressing matters to attend to.

The day flew and dragged by in equal measure, Stella’s morning a blur of paperwork and settling of new patients in the wards. A larger than normal percentage of the empty beds were from deaths in the hospital, and there was a feeling of hopeless resignation in the air. 

There was an old man in C Ward who had been injured in a factory accident. His right leg had been twisted so sharply inside the workings of the machinery, that the bones and flesh had simply come away at his hip, and there had been nothing that any surgeon could do for him. He had two children and no wife, and it had been Stella’s job to reallocate the girls until he had recovered. That had been nearly a month ago, but far from making improvement, the old man’s health had worsened rapidly. He’d picked up an infection after the operation, something that everyone had overlooked until it had ravished his delicate frame from the inside out. He refused all but liquid food now, was constantly restless, and had wasted away beyond imagination. A pile of bones tucked beneath the sheets, always grateful, even though they had brought him to this.

“Mr Arnold?”

His opened a greying eye and attempted a smile, falling short of it. Stella lay a hand gently down on the bed beside him, got low and close enough to him that he could make her out clearly.

“I’m here with your medication sir.”

“I’ve already had...” He croaked, talking becoming too taxing before he could finish the sentence.

“I know you’ve had one set of injections already today, but these are to help you get some sleep, okay? It’s been a while since you’ve had a nice long rest."

He nodded, forcing his face into a smile again, and she sank into a chair beside him, reaching for a wrinkled wrist. 

Stella spent most of the afternoon in the Children’s Ward. For some reason there never seemed to be enough staff to keep it running efficiently, and they always needed help. She was running back and forth between a sick baby and a young boy with a severe skin condition. The baby needed bottle feeding with a concoction of milk and drugs, and Stella was tasked with the feeding. Babies were far easier to treat, but far harder to understand, and it screamed for what seemed like hours before she could get it to sleep. What it needed was a mother, but it’s own was herself critically ill, and none of the younger nurses had any child-rearing experience of their own. Matron did, but Stella couldn’t see her taking over, and so kept on the best she could. By the early evening, she was struggling to keep her own eyes open, but the world spun around her regardless, demanding her attention.

“I’m just going to lift you up for a minute, so I can get to the pillow.”

Stella cradled the girl to her chest, supporting her skinny frame with one arm as she pulled the pillow from beneath her. The smell was putrid, most of the fabric stained a greenish-yellow hue. Most of the lumps had slipped to the floor, but the bile had gathered on the case, and soaked into the girls hair. Stella put a towel down and a bowl of warm water on top. 

“Right then, let’s get you cleaned up shall we?”

She gently sponged the girl’s back down, and then leaned her back just enough to soak her hair in the water. The smell would be difficult to get out in one go, but with strong soap she might be able to reduce it more quickly. Not that the harsh scent of the soap was much better to delicate nostrils. It was difficult to scrub gently, knowing how easily she could do permanent damage. But when she could smell nothing more than dully-floral chemicals, Stella gently rubbed a fresh towel against the child's hair and shoulders. She changed the pillow - thankfully it hadn’t spread to the rest of the bedding - and lay the girl back against it. 

“There we go, is that better?”

“Thank you Nurse Cartwright.” The girl coughed, struggling to keep her eyes open.

“That’s quite alright. You get some sleep now, they’ll wake you up when it’s dinner time. I’ll just clean up the floor here, and then I’ll leave you to sleep.”

*****

Tommy had found her in the smallest supply room of the hospital, and the close proximity was an undeniable threat. He had blocked the door with his frame, silently slipping in behind her, and maintaining the silence until she turned and saw him. She almost dropped the bottles she was carrying in surprise, and then consciously tried to make it look like she had not been affected at all, face taking on a passive expression.

“Stella.”

“I’m afraid I don't have time to talk to you.”

“Please. I want to explain.”

“Explain what, Mr Shelby? It’s I who made the mistake. I should never have involved myself in your life.”

“Arthur was out of order-“

“-Oh do you think so?”

“He can’t always control his anger, and the drinking makes it worse.”

“Maybe he should take a lesson from that.”

“He has…he is, slowly.”

“Maybe you should help him achieve that, rather than stalking me. I really have to get on Mr Shelby, I’ve more important things to attend to.”

She made to push past him, but he refused to let her. He caught her wrist with too firm a grip for her to pull it free. 

“I need to hear you say you forgive me.”

“Well, I’m afraid you’ll have a long wait.”

“‘Please, Stella.”

“Begging now? Why do you feel you need my apology Mr Shelby?"

“I just do.”

“Well I don’t forgive either of us. Or your brother, though I suspect I’d look more kindly on him if he came to me with an apology. Can’t have been easy growing up alongside you. I know it wasn’t for Ada.”

“What has my sister said?”

“Oh a number of things. Few of them to your credit.”

“This isn’t over, Stella."

“Somehow, I don’t think that's your decision to make.”

She could hardly bear to look at him, but she risked a glance. It could have been rage, but there was regret in there somewhere, hiding in his eyes. 

“Look, I’ve been a fool. Your world is far more exciting than mine, but I should have considered the dangers it brings. I should never have allowed myself to become tangled up in something that could be so damaging to my own life. If I were to lose my job, my reputation, my family, all for the sake of a fling with a man like you, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“I can’t be without you.”

“Tommy…You can’t say that, not now. You barely know me.”

“You’ve saved me. Not just physically. I know I’ve been reckless, but I feel it now. I realise I can’t keep doing this. You’ve made me feel human, Stella.”

“I’m glad I was able to do some good."

“I won’t let you walk away from me.”

“There are a lot of doorways in this hospital. I doubt even you could stand in every one at once. Please Tommy, I’m asking you to leave.”

She was close to tears, something she attributed to lateness of the hour and her lack of sleep. But it was becoming more and more difficult to hold them back, and she didn’t trust herself around him. One sob and she could be wrapped between his arms and chest, face to his collar, to his own…She hugged the bottles and bowls gently, focused on the feeling of the cool glass against her skin. Rooting herself in the sensation, she shouldered him aside - his body relenting at her determination - and pausing in the corridor to look back just once. 

“You’ll see me again.”

“Goodbye Tommy."


End file.
